The End of William Davis
by Bernard Flapdoodle
Summary: That look he'd always given him was warm enough to melt any toy's heart. If anyone loved Woody more than Andy, it was Will. Now, he would never see Will again... One shot, first fic. Rated for extra sad. UPDATED


A/N: Hey guys! My first Toy Story fic... I looked around but didn't see anything quite like this, so I wrote what was on my mind. Hopefully any mistakes aren't too horrible; I've been up all night reading other people's fanfics. It's suggested that Andy's father has died, and that Woody is an old family toy. So it seems like the logical conclusion that Woody had been owned by Andy's dad, yes? That's what I was thinking when I wrote this, anyway.

Obviously, this is before the first film. (No mention of Molly because Ms. Davis doesn't know she's pregnant yet.)

EDIT: Now that I'm awake, I've made some changes (including spelling errors I somehow missed) and added the dividers that were somehow not added from my original document. I hope that's okay. :)

* * *

The distressed cry of Mrs. Helen Davis was easily heard all throughout the house. Her son, Andy, had been at kindergarten, so his toys jumped to attention, abandoning games of cards and checkers and whatever else. Woody was the only one to run out onto the landing to peer cautiously downstairs, hopefully out of sight of the entryway below. Helen was in the living room holding phone against its receiver, pushing down on it as if it would never get close enough to hang up. She trembled and failed to hold back a painful, agonizing scream before finally picking up the phone, even though she must have hung it up just moments before. She turned around, and Woody jumped back out of sight. He had never seen or heard her like this, none of them had. What could be wrong? Who could have called to make her so upset?

"He's dead!" she cried into the phone, "Mom, William's dead!"

William... William... That name. It couldn't be. Woody's mind swam with old memories. No. Dead...? He listened to Helen blubber unintelligibly on the phone to her mother for a few more minutes. All he managed to get out of it was "an accident", "he's gone", and "how will I tell Andy? He's so young..." before he gave up getting details, slinking back into Andy's room. The other toys gathered around anxiously.

"What happened?" cried Rex, flailing his tiny arms. Woody stared at him lifelessly, then shook his head, silently walking around the toys and climbing up onto Andy's bed. The others followed, crowding around the edge of the bed. The cowboy, their leader, looked down at them all with a jaded look in his eyes. He knew they wouldn't understand what he was feeling at that moment. They probably wouldn't fully grasp the concept of death, being so new compared to him.

"Will..." he paused, shaking his head. "Andy's dad is gone, guys. He's not coming back home." With that, he disappeared over the edge, and the other toys on the floor exchanged uneasy glances.

Woody fell limp on the bed, staring at the wall. Will. The boy who owned him before he had been handed down. Those bright blue eyes, that shining smile. He looked exactly like Andy. Maybe that was part of why the transition was so easy, despite watching William grow up and grow distant. When Will got older, Woody was never lonely in the storage box, knowing that one day he would get that smile out of him again. That look in his eye was there the day that he handed Woody over to Andy, every time he saw Andy playing with him, when he came in to say goodnight, and that one time somewhat recently that Helen tried to tell Andy that Woody couldn't come to the dinner table, and William patted her hand. That look that made her change her mind, that look he'd always given him, was warm enough to melt any toy's heart. If anyone loved Woody more than Andy, it was Will. It didn't matter how much he was played with, as long as he was there when Will needed him.

Now, he would never see Will again.

A couple of hours later, the front door opened and slammed shut. Woody heard the tearful reunion downstairs and Andy's reaction to the idea that his father wasn't coming home. Footsteps pounded the floor and toys went straight for their places as Andy barged into the room in a panic. He grabbed Woody off of his bed, clinging to him desperately. It was almost as if he knew that Woody would be hurting, too, but the toy knew better than to assume such depth of a 5-year-old. Helen walked up behind him and crouched down on the floor, hugging her son from behind. Andy turned and sat on the floor with his mother, crying softly as she shed fresh tears into his soft brown hair.

* * *

Woody had never been to a funeral before.

He sat in Andy's lap in the back seat of the car as they drove off to the cemetery. Andy ran his fingers over Woody's hat and face idly, his usual carved smile an emptier shell than usual. Andy grabbed Woody's pull string, looking for some words of comfort in the car; the silence had been deafening.

_"There's a snake in my boot!"_ Woody's pre-recorded voice box exclaimed, much louder than expected in the quietness of the car. The toy inwardly cringed, wishing more than anything that there was something better he was allowed to say.

"Andy," Helen's voice came from the front seat, strained and exhausted, "just don't, please..."

Andy laid Woody back into his lap and stared out the window as they pulled in the drive. It was a dreary day, overcast and chilly. When the family members gathered around the closed casket at the open grave, under black umbrellas and running mascara, Andy and Woody stared silently, barely listening, let alone understanding the priest's mumbling of ceremonial goodbyes. And before they knew it, it was over, and the casket lowered, and people dispersed, downcast, uncomfortable and unsettled.

_"So long, partner,"_ Woody thought as Andy was directed back toward the car. In his grief, Woody couldn't help but feel as though he had failed Will as a toy, as though he had given up too easily. He had become complacent; he was too happy to let Will move on. He couldn't make that mistake with Andy. Woody would become Andy's favourite toy, his biggest hero, his only comfort, and it was going to stay that way. He would never give up on Andy, no matter what.


End file.
